My Heart Is A Storm
by tomwren
Summary: Six years ago, Max Caufield made a choice. She sacrificed one life for many. The girl she loved for a town and the lives of all the people in it. Now, she's living in Portland with a respectable photography career but still feels lost. Then, one night she sees a face she never thought she'd see again.
1. After The Storm

Chapter One: After The Storm

 _Night has always pushed up day_

 _You must know life to see decay_

 _But I won't rot, I won't rot_

 _Not this mind and not this heart,_

 _I won't rot._

Max Caufield didn't like loud bars. That's why her bar of choice was Lips, a tiny lesbian bar situated in one of the more out of the way spots of Portland. Many people would say the entire city of Portland was 'hipster'. However, after living in the city for six years Max had explored nearly every nook and cranny, making her 'hipper than the average hipster'.

Max walked towards the bar, hands stuffed in her pockets. She had never gotten over her general shy demeanor and usually only felt comfortable at Lips after a few drinks in her system. Her eyes lit up when she spotted that the bartender was one of her favorites, Jane.

"Hey there Max! Wanna be my lab rat tonight?" Jane asked cheerfully.

"Lab rat?" Max raised an eyebrow.

"I made a new drink. Very fruity, strawberry, coconut… I think it's great. I just need some expert opinions." Jane always exuded confidence and cheerfulness. Something Max hoped would rub off on her.

Max reached inside her messenger bag for her wallet.

"Oh no way, Maxine! On the house, I insist. Sit down and I'll make it for you."

Max pulled out a wooden barstool and sat down.

"Kind of empty tonight." She remarked.

"Well," Jane said, adding ice to the cocktail shaker, "It's only seven thirty. You know the young folks such as yourself don't come until like nine or ten."

Max glanced at the jukebox currently blasting Melissa Ethridge while an older butch woman slow danced with a tall femme with blonde hair almost reaching her ass. Around the perimeter were a group of tattooed butches huddled around a billiards table.

"Here ya go!" Jane said, setting the drink down in front of Max. It was light red and garnished with an orange and cherry. Jane looked at Max expectantly while she took her first sip. Not too strong, very smooth, and delicious.

"It's great Jane. Just what I needed today."

Jane grinned and clapped her hands together. Max smiled weakly. Jane frowned.

"You seem kind of in the dumps Max. Thinking about Tiffany?" Jane asked gently.

Tiffany was Max's ex-girlfriend, an artist. They had broken up two months ago but had never really been that serious. Max had honestly pushed her from her mind except for the times she would randomly find one of Tiffany's long black hairs in her apartment.

Max shook her head.

It was October 9th, which made Max think of a different girl. One long lost.

Arcadia Bay.

Chloe.

At a lighthouse with a storm raging overhead, Max had made a choice. One life for many. She sacrificed the girl she loved to save a town and the people in it. They had shared one last passionate kiss before Max rewound time for the last time. Two kisses. That was all they ever had. All they ever would.

Of course, Jane didn't know that. Nobody knew about Max's time with the ability to rewind time. Nobody knew about Max's teacher drugging her in a bunker and attempting to kill her. Nobody knew these things because in the timeline Max was in these things never happened.

In this life, Chloe died in a bathroom of a gunshot wound. Mr. Jefferson was caught before he could hurt any more girls. Max had won the "Everyday Heroes" contest and had been offered a scholarship to an elite fine art conservatory in Portland. Everything she ever wanted, right?

Except there was no Chloe.

Sometimes Max's mind would drift off, imagining living in a small apartment with Chloe. They would have only each other. Maybe Max would have been happier with that choice. Still, there was no turning back. There was no way to rewind this time.

"Just the general cool-weather doldrums. No good tinder matches. Seasonal allergies." Max said.

Jane laughed.

"Maybe some punk rock girl will come in here later to warm your bed for the night." She said with a wink.

"You know my type," Max replied.

She drained her glass and waited for the evening to get more interesting.

* * *

"I've modeled for soooo many artists around here. Like some really wicked weird stuff too."

This bubbly pink-haired girl had been talking to Max for what seemed like hours. She wasn't sure if the girl was flirting or just wanted another opportunity to model. Max had also already forgotten her name. Shit. What was it? Amber? Ashley?

"Some of my friends think the shoots I've been in are like too racy. Like one of them was like Ansley, that is going TOO far. So, I told her, maybe it wasn't far ENOUGH. You know what I'm sayin?"

Oh yeah, her name was Ansley. Max nodded and made a half -hearted affirmative noise and took a sip of her drink.

"Like I did this shoot with Tiffany Tatum? Like she literally filled this kiddie pool with jello and I laid in it with my tits out. It was so rad. Do you know Tiff?"

Yeah, because every gay artist in Portland knows each other… Except, in this case, Max actually did know her.

"Oh yeah, we dated a little while." She said.

Ansley opened her mouth dramatically.

"Oh my god, you're _that_ Max. You like totally broke her heart. Her expedition right now with all the pictures made of broken glass is about you, right?"

To be honest, the breakup was pretty amicable. Also, Tiffany was working on the broken glass pieces the whole time they were together.

"I think it's more about the fragile state of the universe right now." Max replied curtly.

"Should I even be talking to you right now? Oh my gosh, Tiff would be soooo jealous. Still, I think you're a little dangerous Max. I like danger."

Ansley reached out and playfully swatted Max's arm. Yeah, Max considered herself dangerous, but not in the way Ansley was insinuating.

Max felt her phone buzz in her pocket. She grabbed it and read the text on the screen.

" _Giving you an out if you need it."_

It was from Jane. Max guessed she sensed how awkward the conversation was becoming. Max sent back a quick "thanks."

"I'm sorry Ansley but I really have to go. I forgot I was supposed to meet a friend and now they're yelling at me via text."

"Aw, I hate to see you go, Max. I really was enjoying our conversation. Please take my number before you go and please text me sometime." Ansley said, reaching into her purse.

She pulled out a monochrome business card. Her name, model, and a phone number.

"I usually give it to business contacts, but I guess it works for cuties at the bar too."

"Thanks, Ansley, see you later."

Or hopefully see you never again.

Max stuffed the card in her bag to be lost amongst all the other scraps of paper and knickknacks. Well, Max's excuse meant she would have to leave the bar now. She looked around as she left and saw all the usual suspects that went to Lips on a weekday night. No one new or interesting. Same old routine.

Max walked out the door into the cool air. She pulled a pack of cigarettes from her bag. She never thought she would be a smoker, but the smell of smoke reminded her of riding down the road in Chloe's truck. Even though Chloe smoked with the window down the smoke would always get in Max's face. It was annoying then, but Max missed it now. he would be a smoker, but the smell of smoke reminded her of riding down the road in Chloe's truck. Even though Chloe smoked with the window down the smoke would always get in Max's face. It was annoying then, but Max missed it now.

Max lit a cigarette and turned towards home. Her apartment was only a few blocks away. However, a figure standing under a lamppost stopped her dead in her tracks. Was thinking so much about Chloe making her see things now? Max could see blue hair and an arm covered in tattoos. Max reasoned with herself. A lot of girls from Portland have blue hair and tattoos. Still, Max stepped closer.

Suddenly, the girl turned towards her. The piercing blue eyes, the nose… those lips. She looked older but still unmistakable.

"What the fuck?" Max muttered.

"Chloe?"

"Max!"


	2. Turn It Around

My Heart is A Storm: Chapter Two: Turn It Around

" _She felt comatose waiting for this thing to grow_

 _She's impatient 'cause she wants it now and so it shows_

 _She can't be bothered by the ties that bind her_

 _She's seen ivy when it strangles everything it holds"_

"Chloe?"

"Max!"

The two girls ran towards each other and Max found herself wrapped inside Chloe's arms. She could hear the frantic thumping of the taller girl's heartbeat as her head laid against her chest. For a moment, no questions raced through her mind just relief. However, that was only a moment. Max gently pulled away.

"What? How?" Max asked.

Max had seen the Chloe of this universe lying dead on the bathroom floor. She had seen her lifeless body in a casket. She had seen that casket lowered into the ground. This was impossible. Of course, a lot of things had happened in Max's life so far that seemed impossible, like rewinding time for instance. Still, dead people magically coming back to life was a whole other level of impossible. She had been thinking about Chloe even more than usual today… Did Max manifest this?

"Can we go somewhere private to talk?" Chloe asked.

"If you promise you're not some robot clone sent to murder me." Max replied.

"Pinky swear." Chloe said softly, a smile appearing on her face.

Max's apartment complex was only a few blocks away. Max lead Chloe towards the faded brick building. It had once been a factory but had been converted into beautiful living spaces filled with exposed brick and vintage lights.

They reached the front door and Max unlocked and opened it. She led the way inside, flipping the light switch as she entered. The apartment certainly had a sense of vintage hipster style. Max had decorated it with funky furniture picked up at flea markets. There were books and knickknacks scattered everywhere and of course, the walls were completely covered in photographs, big and small.

"This is so… you." Chloe remarked, as they made their way towards the living room.

On the way, they passed a section of wall dedicated to Chloe. It was filled with photos of Max and Chloe, some from their last week together, other's given to Max by Joyce after the funeral. Max referred to it as "The Chloe Wall". Max's ex Tiffany had always called it "The Shrine". It had been a weird point of contention. Tiffany had always been weirdly jealous. Who the fuck gets jealous over a dead girl? But then, Max had once felt weirdly but deeply jealous of a dead girl called Rachel Amber. Max saw Chloe's eyes pass over the photos as they passed, but she said nothing.

They reached the couch and Chloe sat down gently. It wasn't her usual comfortable plop. Max supposed she felt as awkward as she did.

"Can I get you a drink?" Max asked.

"Um, yeah. Water would be great. Fantastic, really." Chloe said. She was twisting her fingers together, looking down.

Max was glad she asked, because she needed a moment alone. Max went into the kitchen, took a glass from the shelf, and for a moment just stood still. She breathed. Hands shaking, she filled the glass with ice and water for Chloe. After a few deeper breaths, she returned to the living room. Time to face the music.

Chloe sat there waiting, her eyes fixated on a small book on the coffee table. _Polarized: A Collection of Photography By Max Caufield._

Max sat next to her on the couch and Chloe's eyes broke away.

"Here's some water." Max said, handing her the glass.

"Thanks." Chloe said, seeming to be slightly dazed. She took a sip and sighed.

"You published a book?" Chloe asked.

"Yeah," Max said sheepishly, "Not known to many outside of this city but I guess it's pretty cool."

"Super cool." Chloe replied. She grinned. "Max, that is so awesome. I'm hella proud of you."

Max smiled. _Hella._ Been awhile since she heard that word from anyone.

"I guess I owe you an explanation, huh?" Chloe asked.

"Yeah, I kind of watched you die." Max said.

Chloe sighed, burying her head in her hands. Max could hear her breathing heavily as though as into a paper bag before her head resurfaced.

"I'm honestly still trying to figure it out." Chloe said.

"I'm listening." Said Max.

"Okay, well, um, do you remember a giant storm threatening to destroy Arcadia Bay?"

"Yes."

"Okay, well, I told you that you should use the picture you took of the butterfly in the bathroom to go back in time to let me die so the storm wouldn't come."

Chloe was speaking fast and jumbled as through she was trying to spit the story out as fast as possible before she lost her nerve.

"Right." Max sighed. She didn't like how this story ended.

"And you ripped it up and said told me no."

Wait… that's not what happened. Sometimes, Max wished that was what happened but Max had decided to save the whole bay. Fucking moral code.

Chloe looked over at Max.

"I'm assuming that's not what happened to you, right?" Chloe asked.

"No…"

"Okay, well that kind of helps me a little bit, I guess."

Max looked down at the floor. This had to be weird dream, right? How the fuck did Chloe Price traverse another dimension to end up in her living room?

"So, we stayed at the lighthouse until the storm passed. Well, we did that in my timeline, I guess. When it blew over we found my car. Somehow it had survived. We drove here to Portland. You had let me steal that five thousand dollars, so, we had enough money to get set up. Also, when we mentioned we were from Arcadia Bay people were really eager to help us. I got a job bartending at that bar you were at earlier."

"Lips?" Max asked.

"Yeah," Chloe chuckled, "It was a pretty fucking cool place to work. Good tips. You kinda did jobs here and there. Waitressing, retail, occasionally selling pictures to art magazines. But…"

Chloe sighed, her shoulders slumping.

"It's okay." Said Max. "Just tell me."

"You never got over what happened, Max. You felt so guilty for letting all those people die. Your friends… my mom… I mean, I was pretty fucking sad about it too but you really felt responsible. That mixed with all the stuff with Jefferson broke you."

Max could see Chloe tearing up a bit. She wiped a tear away.

"I wasn't happy… ever?" Max asked.

All this time she had went over that decision in her mind. She always wondered what life would be like if she had chosen to save Chloe. She guessed she knew now.

"We had good days. We did. And I loved you so goddamn much. Even through everything, you loved me too. We were Max and Chloe."

"But you're here now." Said Max.

How was she here?

"We had a dreadful day. You had locked yourself in the bathroom. You were crying and screaming, but you wouldn't let me in. So, I knocked and beat on the door until I couldn't anymore."

Chloe held her hand out and Max could see the fire red knuckles.

"So, I sat down in front of the door and started crying too. And then I had a thought, it wasn't a wish or anything, it was just a thought. I thought, maybe I should have made you sacrifice me. I guess I just closed my eyes and imagined for a moment what kind of life you might have had. And when I opened them, my apartment was empty. Our furniture was gone. _You_ were gone. I went outside and our old neighbor Mrs. Anabelle started freaking out because she thought some punk had broken into the empty apartment next door. She had no fucking idea who I was, Max. So, I ran and ran until I got to the library. I got on the computer and looked up my name and found an obituary. Nathan Price, jail. Mark Jefferson, jail . Then, I looked up you and saw all these articles. All these reviews of your gallery exhibits. I found your website and saw you lived here in Portland. So, I was determined to find you."

"So, you went to Lips?" Max asked.

"Yeah, I don't even know why. I just thought that maybe we loved that place in every timeline."

"Yeah, I guess so." Max replied.

She leaned back against the sofa, attempting to process everything she had just heard.

"I know it's a lot." Said Chloe. "This is really fucking hard for me to understand, I can't even imagine what you're thinking right now."

Max searched her mind for some sort of explanation.

"When I was messing around with time, I made all these different realities. If I made a choice and didn't like what happened, I would rewind. Every time I did that, I was messing with the very fabric of time. I kind of learned that in a weird vision I had." Max said.

"So, I guess somehow I got the power to jump around these different realities." Chloe said.

"I guess so." Max replied.

They sat in silence for a while. Occasionally, it seemed like Chloe was going to speak but she must have decided against it. At one point, their hands found each other and grasped together. Finally, Max spoke.

"This is really weird and seems so unbelievable and impossible, but I'm so glad I get to see you again, Chloe. I've missed you so much."

"I'm glad. Well, not that you've had to miss me but… glad you wanted me here. I mean, you're okay with me being here, right?"

"Of course."

Max looked at the time. 3 AM and she had work the next day. She rubbed her eyes, stifling a yawn.

"It's late." Said Chloe.

"Yeah, I guess we should get some rest. I just want to sit here with you but I have to be at the gallery at 8 AM."

"Oh," said Chloe "That's like five hours."

Max willed herself to get up and head towards her bedroom, but it was as though her feet were rooted to the floor. What if she woke up and Chloe was gone?

"Should I sleep out here?" Chloe asked.

Max squeezed her hand.

"No, come on."

Max pulled her up and they walked towards the bedroom. As they reached the room Max said a silent prayer.

 _Oh Chloe, please stay. Please fucking stay._


	3. I Am A Nightmare

My Heart Is A Storm: Chapter 3: I Am A Nightmare

" _My heart is glowing fluorescent, I want you to possess it_

 _I'm not a prophecy come true_

 _I've just been goddamn mean to you_

 _So, what is this thing laced with_

 _Please don't replace me_

 _I surrender, embrace me_

 _Whatever I'm faced with_

 _I am a nightmare and you are a miracle_

 _Coming out of the ground, it's kind of freaking me out"_

Max stood facing a winding path. The wind was blowing so hard it threatened to knock her over. The rain beat down so hard on her face it strung. She struggled to cover her face. She had been here before. _Not again. Fuck._

She saw the lighthouse up ahead, the one place she would be safe.

"Chloe!" she screamed. No answer.

She struggled to walk. She felt so weighed down. Still, she made her way through the path, dodging branches and debris as they fell at her feet. She had to keep going. She had to find Chloe.

Finally, she reached the lighthouse. She saw a figure up ahead, standing near the cliff.

"Chloe?!"

She ran towards it and it turned. It was Chloe, but distorted, terrifying.

"You killed me, Max. Why?" Chloe said, her voice seemingly switching from her normal one to something demonic.

"I was trying to save everyone!" Max yelled, tears rushing down her face.

"I thought you loved me!" Chloe said, turning back towards the cliff.

"I did! I do! Please come here!" Max yelled.

Chloe turned back towards Max. Her body began to shake and morph until Max was staring at a copy of herself instead.

"I killed everyone." The other Max said, tearing streaming down her face.

Before Max could say anything, the other Max turned back towards the cliff and jumped.

Max sat up in bed, her heart racing. It was just an awful dream. Max sighed heavily. _It wasn't a vision. I'm okay._ She told herself. Slowly, the events of the dream faded and were replaced by the events of the previous evening. _Chloe._

She looked beside her to find the rest of the bed empty except for her cat, Mr. Buttons, curled at her feet. Was Chloe a dream too? No, that felt real. It had to be real.

Max jumped up quickly and rushed out of her bedroom. As she went out of the door, a smell caught her attention. _Bacon, someone is frying bacon._ She walked a little slower to the source of the smell and found Chloe at the stove.

"Wakey wakey eggs and bakey!" Chloe said, turning towards Max with a smile.

Joyce used to wake up Max and Chloe with those words whenever they slept in on Saturdays. Max wondered how Joyce was doing these days. She had tried to keep in touch but relationships were hard to maintain when your only common connection was dead.

"Oh, Chloe you're here," Max said, relieved.

"Yeah, I couldn't really sleep," Chloe said. "I was going to wake you up in a minute, I swear. You just looked so peaceful."

Max glanced at the clock on the wall. It was almost 7 and she had to be at the gallery at 8.

"I don't want to work today," Max groaned, "I just want to stay with you."

"Call out?" Chloe asked.

 _Typical Chloe._ God, Max missed typical Chloe, avoiding responsibility and all.

"I wish. Victoria would fucking murder me though."

"Victoria? As in Victoria Chase? I _did not_ expect you two to be still hanging out." Chloe said, eyes widening.

"We're not best friends or anything but we are doing a joint exhibit next week at a gallery downtown."

Victoria had continued to be rude to Max throughout her first semester at Blackwell but over time the two girls had come to some sort of understanding. When they decided to put aside their differences, they realized they really weren't so different at all. They had both ended up in Portland eventually. Victoria had spent a little while in California but Max guessed she was called back to Oregon for some fateful reason.

"Just friends?" Chloe asked.

Did Max detect jealousy?

"Oh yeah," Max laughed, "Victoria is like annoyingly heterosexual."

Chloe giggled.

"Okay, I'm going to get dressed as fast as I can," Max said, turning back towards her bedroom.

"Okay," said Chloe, "I should have breakfast on the table and you can scarf it down as quick as you can. I can't let Super Max be late!"

Max went back to the bedroom and pulled open a drawer in her dresser. She grabbed plain white v-neck shirt, her favorite pair of jeans, and her trusty hoodie. No need to be fancy today.

She made her way back to the kitchen and saw that Chloe already had the food plated and the table set. She had even scrounged up a candle from somewhere and had it lit in the middle of the table. Max took a seat.

"Wow Chloe, this looks great. Thank you."

Chloe took the seat across from her.

"Eat up Max," Chloe said with a grin.

They ate their food quickly. Max was eager to spend this time with Chloe but the angry looking clock flashing on the wall prevented her from savoring the moment too much. When she was finished, she stood up.

"Okay Chloe, I gotta go. Um, tv has Netflix and Hulu. Feel free to use the laptop if you want. Um, do you have a phone or anything?"

Chloe pulled a cell phone from her pocket.

"The phone jumped with me but I can't make any calls or texts on it."

"Oh, okay," Max said, "Well, just hang out here I guess. I'll try to be back as soon as I can."

She reached into her wallet and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill and placed it on the table.

"I don't have like a whole lot of food in the fridge so you can use this if you wanna order something."

Max took a deep breath. What if walking out the door meant Chloe not being there when she got back? She felt incredibly anxious at the thought. Chloe seemed to sense the anxiety and walked towards her, wrapping her in a hug.

"I'll be fine," Chloe said, quickly kissing the top of her head, "Go to work, champ."

They lingered like that for a moment. Finally, they gently broke apart and Max went towards the door.

Even after all of that, Max was still five minutes late. Damn it. She entered the studio to find Victoria already bent over a worktable, examining photographs. She turned when she heard Max's footsteps.

"Well, there you are. I was starting to think you wouldn't show." Victoria said.

It was her typical biting sarcasm, but a lot friendlier and warmer than when they first met.

"Last night was… wild." Max said.

If Victoria was curious about the night Max had, she didn't show it. Instead, she turned back towards the photos. As Max approached, she realized the pile was all pictures she had taken.

"I thought maybe we could objectively look at each other's photos to decide which ones we should use," Victoria said.

"Yeah, that sounds okay."

Victoria picked up a black and white photo of a girl with long black curly hair and glasses. The look on the model's face could only be described as intense. That was Tiffany.

"Is Tiffany okay with her photo being used? After well, you know?" Victoria asked.

It seemed like she was tiptoeing delicately around the issue. This wasn't something Max was used to Victoria doing about anything. Blunt might have well been her middle name.

"Oh yeah, she's fine with it. Like our breakup wasn't messy like everyone seems to think it was." Max said.

Victoria laughed.

"I thought _all_ lesbian breakups were messy." She said.

"Stereotypes," Max replied.

Victoria put down the photo.

"Okay, well, that's good because I really love this picture. It really captures her." Victoria said.

Max nodded. Tiffany was intense, occasionally volatile. Chloe was similar but still had a sense of humor and playfulness mixed in. Max had heard Tiffany laugh maybe once the whole time they were together.

"What do you think of Tiffany's art?" Victoria asked.

Artist gossip. Oh goody.

"I like it," Max said.

"Sometimes I think it's too much," Victoria said, "Like she makes art just to push the envelope. But some of it just seems… hollow inside."

"Like jello girl?" Max asked.

Victoria snapped her fingers.

"Yes! Jello girl! Way too on the line between artistic and pornographic."

"I think that was mainly the model she chose. I'm pretty sure her original vision was different. I don't know though."

"I almost worked with that model once," Victoria said, "When we got to the studio and I told her there was no nudity she got pissed and walked out."

Max laughed.

"She probably wanted to fuck you. She was actually chatting me up pretty heavily at a bar last night but I made up and excuse just to get away from her. Then, she gave me her fucking business card."

"Oh God," Victoria said, wrinkling her nose, "I get hit on way too much by my models. It's not conducive to a professional environment. Then, I mention my boyfriend and they roll their eyes at me. Being a straight female artist is hard sometimes."

Max put her hand over her mouth to keep from cracking up. _Being a straight female artist is hard sometimes._ Victoria could still be as tone deaf as ever.

Victoria picked up another photo, a blue butterfly perched on the lid of a can. Max forgot she had put a copy of that fateful photograph in the pile for consideration. That photo meant so much to her. It had changed the course of her whole life. It usually filled her with gut-aching sadness, but now when she looked at it, she felt hopeful. Chloe was back. She was back and in her apartment waiting for her.

Max felt a flash a guilt. For the first time, she thought about the _other_ Max. Was she alone? Did another Chloe copy stay with her? These time powers were some complicated. It wasn't like these things could be looked up on Google.

"Max?"

Max broke out of her thoughts. She must have spaced out. Victoria was looking at her strangely.

"Hey, space cadet," Victoria said, "I was _complimenting_ you."

"Oh," Max said, still dazed, "Thanks."

Victoria still held the butterfly photo in her hand.

"This was a really lucky shot, honestly. I could see this being like, an album cover or something. It's cool."

Max nodded and smiled.

"Thanks, Victoria."

They spend the next few hours finalizing the photos they were planning on using and making a diagram of the gallery to decide the placement. Victoria spent a good amount of time weighing the options between different appetizers to serve.

Finally, Victoria was satisfied with the work they had completed and they said their goodbyes. Max walked outside the building, wrapping her hoodie tightly around her. The air had gotten cool. She was determined to get back to Chloe as quickly as she could.

A subway ride and a brisk walk later, Max made it back to her apartment. She put the key in the door and entered. Max could the tv blaring, so she walked towards the living room. She found Chloe there, sleeping on the couch, arms wrapped around Mr. Buttons. She pulled out her camera and took a quick snapshot. Chloe must have been exhausted. Poor thing. Max sat in the chair next to her and watched her. Better not disturb her for now. They had all the time in the world now.


End file.
